


As The World Falls Down

by Skyson



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Coulace, Flirting, Friendship/Love, M/M, POV Multiple, Reality, Space Prison, The Framework
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 21:25:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12826407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyson/pseuds/Skyson
Summary: A little bit of flirting in the Framework turns into a lot of flirting outside of it.AU after 4x17.





	As The World Falls Down

**Author's Note:**

> _It makes no sense at all_  
>  _It makes no sense to fall_  
>  _I'm falling in love_  
>  \- “As the World Falls Down” by Girl In A Coma

* * *

 

“We make a pretty good team,” Mace commented as they caught their breath outside the gates, watching the building crumble into dust and rubble. His tone may have sounded calm, but his heart was pounding in his chest. He was almost starting to feel claustrophobic within his Patriot armor. That was just the closest call to death he’s ever faced, and honestly he was just impressed that he hadn’t shit himself as they all had raced out of the falling building.

“Well, you know what they say, a team that trusts…” Coulson replied, lightly teasing, and Mace groaned.

“Can't believe that's one of _mine_ ,” He mumbled, and Coulson grinned at him, pausing by his side, so close that their shoulders brushed. Mace realized this wasn’t the first time he’d done that, either.

“I don't know; I've warmed to it.” He flirted, and Mace looked at him appraisingly.

“Careful, Phil…I might start thinking you like me.” He lightly flirted back, and Coulson leaned his head marginally closer, and suddenly they were sharing the same breath space.

“You say that like it's a bad thing.” Coulson returned softly, giving him a lingering look before sauntering off. Mace watched him walk away, looking at him with curious interest.

He _did_  look pretty damn fine for a high school teacher, and this wasn’t the first time Mace had that thought, either.  
  


**———**  
  


It was ridiculously easy to take the television studio, and they had that idiot Bakshi tied up and out of the way soon enough.

Coulson found it very difficult not to gawk and fanboy as both Daisy and Mace quickly and efficiently secured the room and assigned agents to guard various entrances and exits.

Mace reappeared as May was helping Coulson get ready for the broadcast.

“Just tell the truth. You’ll be fine.” May assured him, and he smiled carefully as he did manage to find a bit of relief from her words. May and Mace glanced at one another warily, but May gave him a nod before she slipped away, moving over to speak with Ward and Daisy.

“She’s right,” Mace supplied, standing across from Phil where she had been standing earlier. “You can do this.”

“I still think I’d rather _you_  be giving this speech. These people need to see that,”

“No,” Mace interrupted him gently, “your plan is sound. We can’t give away our hand, just yet. Hydra will be spread out as they try to contain everything, and when they least expect it, their Enemy Number 1 will show up alive and well.” Mace smirked a little, the expression giving him a combination of dangerousness and boyishness that made Coulson feel pleasantly warm.

Coulson didn’t like the idea of lying to so many innocent people who lived with the hope that their hero would save them, but, it wouldn’t be long before the Antoine Triplett of this world would proudly take on that mantel, anyway.

“And we’ll all be… back home.” Coulson finished, carefully. While he did believe that Daisy and Jemma were right about this world, he still didn’t have his own memories, really. That made the concept truly difficult to fully grasp.

“According to them.” Mace shrugged and nodded.

“You don’t trust Daisy?” Coulson furrowed his brow, and Mace looked down at him thoughtfully.

“I trust you,” He said finally, “and you trust Daisy.” He shrugged again, as if that answered it.

“But _why_  do you trust me? You don’t know me any more than you know Daisy. Perhaps if you’d remembered me, the same way I’d remembered her…” Phil trailed off.

He didn’t necessarily _remember_  Daisy Johnson, though. He just remembered the feelings that were associated with her. Companionship, trust, love. She was important to him; he knew that much. He also knew that he hadn’t been able to associate any such feelings with any of these other people, nothing other than putting his trust with them, anyway.

And whatever this was that he felt every time his eyes landed on Jeffrey Mace.

Mace was gauging him thoughtfully again.

“Call it… deja-vu,” Mace half guessed, and Coulson’s eyes widened slightly.

The exact words he’d used with May - maybe that meant they really did all know one another, and were interconnected in some way, from some other universe.

Or maybe it was just a coincidence.

“You clean up nice.” Mace mused, speaking more lightly, pressing his fingers against the lapel of Coulson’s borrowed suit. Coulson smiled immediately, the curve of his lips a little lopsided as he felt the tips of his ears flush. Mace’s answering smile was warm and his eyes mischievous, and he shifted forward into the space between them as he slowly slid the pads of his fingers toward Coulson’s tie. He reached over beneath the knot and tugged it, both loosening it and giving Coulson a short little jerk closer.

“I—you— _dust_ ,” Coulson stammered nervously, his gaze glued toward Mace’s mouth. Their noses were almost touching, and his whole face felt hot with embarrassment now. What the hell was _that_ ; he’d just been about to be kissed by _The Patriot_  - why the hell did he open his big mouth—

“Hm,” Mace paused there for a breathless moment, and then leaned away, out of Coulson’s space, and Coulson resisted the needless urge to gasp for air. “You’re right. Need to keep you looking pretty for the cameras.” Mace let his hand fall from Coulson’s tie, his head tilted to the side slightly as he seemed to be measuring him again. “I need to go check the doors again. Remember what May said. Just tell the truth.” He straightened and smiled warmly before he turned and disappeared around the corner.

Coulson snapped his mouth closed, swallowing a few times to wet his mouth. Wouldn’t do if he started out croaking his first words during his ‘save the world rallying cry’. Maybe Daisy or Ward knew where there was some bottled water.

He saw them through the windows of the control booth, along with May, and realized last minute his tie was still skewed. He quickly yanked it back into place and quietly cleared his throat as he strolled into the room.

“Well, that’s that,” He breathed out, reorienting himself. Time to focus on the job.

The other three turned to him with varying levels of odd looks at his words. Thankfully, at least, May didn’t call attention to his mussing with his tie.

“Let’s get out of here.” May announced, and Daisy nodded as Ward stood from where he’d been leaning against the console.

The seriousness of the situation lay heavily upon his shoulders again, and he swallowed down the rise of bile in his throat. No time to get nervous, again.

He settled into the chair slowly, folding his hands together atop the table. He focused on every little movement he made, so as not to focus on the cameras pointed at him. He breathed in and out a few times, and looked up.

Gathered around the cameras were these people - his _friends_  - and it gave him comfort even if their familiarity still unsettled him in the deepest parts of his mind.

Regardless, these were people who were trusting on him. He couldn’t - he wouldn’t - let them down.

“Good evening.”

Coulson inwardly sighed as he read slightly ahead on the teleprompter. It needed to be done, for Hydra to believe….

The people would survive this. The one lie he was telling today wouldn’t live for long.

“As many of you know, a Hydra facility was destroyed yesterday.”

Coulson tried not to shift his shoulders. The suit wasn’t uncomfortable, per se, but he felt uncomfortable in it. He remembered Mace’s eyes as he had admired it, and he hoped to God that he wasn’t blushing on screen.

“Hydra told you that it was an act of terrorism. They told you an Inhuman named The Patriot murdered civilians.”

Just off camera, Coulson caught the twitch of distaste across many of the faces that stood there, the strongest being from the man just mentioned. Coulson didn’t react, though he felt that same disgust.

“What they told you was a lie,”

He tried not to be too vehement; he had to be calm, to be trustworthy. To portray that he indeed was providing the truth, knew what he was talking about, wasn’t just spouting off on hot emotion.

“We’re going to show you what really happened.”

May stood uncomfortably next to Mace as the footage from her body-cam played on the screen, Coulson continuing to speak over it. Coulson imagined that though she had seen proof that The Patriot wasn’t as bad as Hydra had insisted, years and years of training still put her in an internal battle with her own heart and mind.

He had an oddly intense sort of hope that she would come to accept Mace, and join them. It was tied in all together with that familiarity, as if he knew her. Perhaps like he knew Daisy, or Jemma?

Coulson focused his thoughts back onto the task at hand. His thrown-together speech was on the prompter in front of him, but he still needed to put everything into the words he was saying. The people watching needed to see that he _meant_  these words.

“Now that we know the truth, we have a choice to make. We _all_  have the opportunity to be patriots. Will you take a stand? Are _you_  going to hold them accountable?”

There was a quick burst of movement at the back of the room, and Coulson glanced toward it fleetingly. He figured his time on air was running short.

“A wise man once told me that a person can do anything once they realize they’re a part of something bigger.”

Where had that come from? He wasn’t sure, but it felt right. He continued on with the prompting words,

“For years, I was just a face in the crowd, a history teacher, who spread Hydra’s lies. They seemed too imposing for any one person to fight.”

Coulson met Mace’s gaze directly, now, knowing that he was showing a proud look on his face and figuring it would help the broadcast, in any case.

“But now? I’m choosing to stand up. To become a part of something bigger. I really do believe that together, we can accomplish anything. Because the truth is…”

His fingers twitched atop the table they rested on, and he sat up a little straighter as he reached to pull his glasses off of his face.

“I’m not just a history teacher,”

He fought to keep the smirk off of his face as his heart raced a little faster. Here it goes… He reached into his jacket and pulled out the badge he’d borrowed from Mace.

“My name is Phil Coulson. And I’m an Agent of SHIELD.”

The red light atop the cameras cut out a moment later, and everyone immediately began moving all at once. Ward spoke up first.

“We’ve got people here, to help us. Our escape window has opened but it’s not for very long.” He informed them.

“We need to go, now.” May agreed, and Daisy moved to get Coulson up and moving faster as he seemed sloth-like getting up from his chair.

“Damn,” Coulson muttered under his breath, his hands shaking as he replaced the billfold back into his jacket and slipped his glasses back over his nose.

“You did good, Phil,” Daisy praised, her hands gripping his arms supportively. “Come on,”

“You lead the way,” May suggested, and Daisy nodded, giving Coulson one more encouraging squeeze before she hurried down the hall. May took her place, gripping the back of Coulson’s elbow with one hand while the other wrapped securely around the butt of a pistol.

“They gave you a gun?” Coulson wondered in surprise, and May pursed her lips.

“For better or worse, we’re a team,” Mace spoke up where he brought up the rear, guarding their backs. “Besides, if she was really still Hydra, she’d never have let us air that broadcast.”

“Thanks.” May retorted dryly, but Coulson could tell (and how could he tell, if he’d never met her before all this?) that she was secretly pleased.

When they all burst out into the sunlight, they were momentarily frozen in surprise at the chaos around them. There were people everywhere, filling up the front courtyard and the parking lot. They were fighting each other, though - not focused on the group spilling out the front door of the building.

“Where did all these people come from?” Ward wondered in a bit of awe. Burrows grinned.

“Told you so.”

Various shouts of “down with Hydra!” and “you don’t own me!” and various other defiances reached their ears, and May patted Coulson’s shoulder before putting both of her hands on her gun.

“You did this, Coulson. You gave them courage.” She pointed out, and his hands stopped shaking as he glanced over toward Mace.

“It wasn’t just me.”

Mace smiled, and as everybody high-tailed it toward their getaway vehicles, he grabbed onto Coulson’s arm and held him back for a moment.

“I know this isn’t the time, but I have to tell you, that was seriously hot.” Mace told him, shouting to be heard over everything else. Coulson blinked owlishly at him, and felt his chest warm with the admission.

“Now is not really the time!” Coulson agreed, once again wondering why the hell he’d blurted _that_  out when all he really wanted—

“What are you two— come _on_!” Daisy shouted at them, having reached a van and turned to find Coulson and Mace straggling behind.

“Right,” Mace smirked; that devilish look again that made Coulson feel a little weak-kneed, and luckily The Patriot kept his hand on Coulson’s arm so he didn’t stumble too much as they both bolted after the others.

“Is that -!”

“He’s alive!”

“I knew it!”

The joyful sound of their compatriot’s voices made Coulson want to thrust his fist into the air and shout “ha!” in Hydra’s face. He knew the news wouldn’t spread much - a couple of sightings of The Patriot during a heated and crowded fight wouldn’t be given much credence.

But soon, soon the whole truth would be revealed… and Coulson felt almost giddy with the thought.  
  


**———**  
  


There was a relative, odd sort of calm over the base once they returned, and they all split up to help out the refugees and prepare for what was coming next.

Mace had to slip up to his office via a secret route, not quite wanting to reveal his presence yet. He was quite clearly pained to do so, but resolute. Coulson wished he could follow, give the man some of the encouragement he’d been given himself, but he had his own things to do.

For one, change out of this suit.

Burrows and Ward followed Mace through the tunnels that led from the hangar bay straight toward his office. It was only one of many of the escape routes that wasn’t included in the original blueprint of the base, but it was the one most frequently used.

“We need to get Daisy Johnson up here to go over the next part of the plan,” Mace announced as he peeled off the chest armor of his suit. He heaved a breath of relief as he allowed it to fall to the floor, and pulled off his shoulder armor and gloves as well. “This part is all on her,” He muttered, not quite sure how he felt about being in the dark as he was.

“Sir, I know she’s helped us greatly so far, but can we really —”

“You are _not_  about to ask whether or not we can trust Daisy,” Ward interrupted Burrows tiredly. Mace held his hand up before they could get into an argument.

“Don’t question me on this. Just get me Daisy. And Antoine as well, okay?” Mace was asking, and he groaned and closed his eyes as he settled heavily into the chair behind his desk. Every part of him _ached_ , and he desperately needed a shower.

He was leaning over the side of the chair and rubbing his hand vigorously through his hair when footsteps entered the office.

“Damn,” Daisy breathed, and Mace jerked his head up to see who had arrived. “I’d heard about what happened. Didn’t really get a chance at the tv studio to… thank you, I guess.”

Dust and a couple small bits of rubble layered the floor where Mace had attempted to remove some of it from his hair. It was still pretty dusty, but he felt mildly better.

“Just doing my job.” He stood, and shrugged one shoulder. Daisy looked at him appraisingly, and somehow he felt like _she_  was the boss in the room.

“Good to see you still in one piece, boss,” Antoine grinned as he nudged the door behind him and quickly approached Mace’s desk. Mace smiled widely as he rounded it and met his friend, giving him a firm hug.

“More or less,” He agreed warmly, and when they parted, Daisy was furrowing her brow at both of them.

“You know _him_  and you don’t know _me_?” She pursed her lips. “So not fair.” She muttered under her breath, and Mace grew serious once more, reminded of why he’d asked them both here.

“Can you show me this exit point of yours on a map?” Mace asked her, and she nodded. Mace glanced toward Antoine, who moved over to one of the haphazardly organized shelves and shifted through books and papers until he found what he was looking for.

Mace moved aside what little items he had atop the desk (which was also dusty - damn, when was the last time he was actually here long enough to clean?) and stood next to Daisy as Antoine unfolded the map across the bared space. The men shifted some things to the corners of the paper while Daisy leaned over it and began scanning quickly with her finger.

“Okay… sooo,” She hummed as she looked over the map, “Radcliffe’s coordinates should put it right about…here,” Mace passed her a pencil and she circled the spot a few times. He leaned his hands atop the desk, mirroring Antoine’s stance as the two of them checked her mark. “Do you think you can fly us there?” Daisy straightened and looked at Antoine, who nodded slowly.

“No problem.” Antoine straightened as well. “But, what’s with this team of yours?” Mace cocked his head in Daisy’s direction, curious as well. “A Hydra agent, a school teacher, a dad? Looks pretty ‘Bad News Bears’ to me.”

“Trust me, I think they’re up to the task.” Daisy replied, clearly not wanting to go into it. Mace wondered at that; at first she had made it seem like Antoine was one of _them_ , somehow in on this… thing. Whatever it really was.

Mace was starting to doubt himself more, as well. Was he making the right decision, agreeing along with all of this? Agreeing to go _with_ them, and leave The Patriot behind for Antoine to take up? Not that he didn’t trust his long-time friend couldn’t handle the task - in many ways, Mace believed he’d be even better at it.

“Does this have anything to do with the other world Simmons was talking about?” Antoine asked, folding his arms across his chest. Daisy made an odd face.

“She - told you?”

“What can I say? I’m easy to confide in.” Antoine smiled winningly, and Mace groaned under his breath, dropping his head down for a moment before he straightened up off the desk.

“Okay…” Daisy replied awkwardly, nodding slowly, and Mace smirked as he slightly raised his eyebrow at his friend.

His usual flirtatious tactics weren’t quite working, with this one.

“Yeah,” She eventually said, glancing over at Mace for a moment. “You guys, May, Mack, and Coulson were all part of our team in the other world.”

“So _that’s_ why you were so happy to see me,” Antoine mused confidently. “You and I, we must have uh, you know…” He gestured vaguely with his hands.

“Geez,” Mace rolled his eyes.

“Dated?” Daisy smirked, folding her arms across her chest.

“Sure,” Antoine replied, “We’ll go with that.”

“Uh, no. Sorry.”

“Right.” He was only momentarily thrown off. “Me and Simmons, we probably,”

“Nope.” Daisy replied casually. Antoine frowned in surprise, and Mace bit his lip as he tried not to chuckle out loud.

“Agent May?” Antoine wondered, and Daisy shook her head in the negative. “Damn!” He threw his hands up into the air, and Mace did laugh a bit, now. “And this is really a place you want to go back to?!”

“Easy, Playboy,” Daisy teased. “Right now we have to round up Simmons and the rest of the team.”

“I doubt she’s back, yet,” He replied, shifting the temporary paperweights aside so he could begin folded up the map to carrying size.

“What?” Daisy pressed shortly.

“I thought you knew? Simmons left base an hour ago.”

“Where was she going?” Daisy wondered incredulously, and Mace looked sharply toward his friend. Daisy’s tone told him that this wasn’t good news.

“Figure it out. I’ll call Coulson,” Mace told them, stepping to the side and grabbing the phone from the desk. He tugged it all the way toward the window as he dialed, the line more than long enough, and ignored the interested face Daisy was giving him.

“He’s got Coulson’s phone number?” Daisy wondered curiously, jutting her thumb in Mace’s direction.

“Man, you’re just as out of the loop as I am, aren’t you?” Antoine grinned widely again, more than happy with the opportunity to tease his buddy. “Jeffrey and your teacher friend hit it off pretty well the other day; I’m fully expecting Van Halen to burst out at some point and start singing,”

“Find Simmons, Triplett.” Mace interrupted loudly, narrowing his eyes. Antoine stopped his story, but he was still smirking as he and Daisy focused back on task.

“Hello?” Coulson answered on the line. _Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad...._

“This is, uh, Jeffrey. Get up to my office, please, immediately. And bring May.” Mace frowned at himself. Why the hell had he stumbled over his own damn name? _Hot for teacher...._

“Sure, sure, on our way. ...Something’s not right, here,” Coulson mused, and Mace tensed. He worried that maybe a few not-so-repentant Hydra agents had slipped in among the refugees. “People are staring at us.”

“No,” Mace heard May answer; she must’ve been walking with Coulson. “They’re staring at _you_. That’s what happens when you go on TV calling for revolution. You’re now the face of the Resistance.”

Mace felt a surge of pride, not in the least bit disappointed about his replacement.

“It’s a nice face, too.” He murmured quietly, glancing up toward the other two in his office. Daisy was too busy fussing at Antoine for either of them to have heard him. Mace really needed to get that song out of his head and focus.

“That’s— not— really my style.” Coulson stammered, trying not to react to Mace’s words. “I’m really more of a ‘work in the shadows’ kind of guy.”

“Really?” May mused dryly. “That’s how teaching tenth grade works best? From the shadows?” Mace half-noticed Daisy barreling out of the room, and he glanced toward Antoine again.

Mace realized that May suspected the whole ‘other world’ idea was oddball, as well, and again he felt worried about the prospect that she wouldn’t be up for joining them on this little ‘adventure’.

“To be honest with you, fifteen year olds are no joke.” Coulson replied.

His sassy tone made Mace think of geese, and he frowned, and then frowned at the phone. Antoine gave him an odd look.

“Everything good?”

“I… don’t know.” Mace blinked. He cradled the receiver and brought the phone back over to his desk. “Prepare that jet for flight, alright? Intercept Coulson and May on your way down there and tell them what’s going on. I’m going to shower and I’ll meet you in the hangar bay.”

“Daisy isn’t going to want to go to that place without Simmons,” Antoine gestured his head toward the map.

“That’s why we’re going to pick her up on the way,” Mace replied. “Go check the hall and make sure it’s clear.”

“Jeffrey,” Antoine’s expression softened, and Mace put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“For all intents and purposes, _you’re_  The Patriot now.” Mace smiled gently. “I couldn’t think of anyone I would want to hold that title more.”

“You’re really going to leave with them, huh?” Antoine figured sadly.

“It’s…” Of course it was complicated. That would be stupid to say. “I can’t quite explain it, but… I just think I’m _supposed_  to.”

“What am I supposed to do here, without you?” Antione half-joked, gesturing his arms around them, and Mace let his hand fall back to his side.

“I’m pretty sure we both know that I’ve always needed you more than you need me, buddy.” Mace grinned, and Antoine grinned back.

“Alright.” Antoine nodded once, and squared his shoulders. “Time to get ready.”

They grasped one another’s forearm firmly, holding there for a moment until Antoine stepped around him and checked the hall. He waved Mace out, and Mace quickly slipped around the corner into his own quarters.

He probably didn’t actually have enough time to shower, now that they had to find Simmons. But he would make damn sure that The Patriot armor was as clean as possible, and ready for Triplett once he returned to base.

  
**———**  
  


A fucking steel mill? An active one, at that? This was insane. Mace wasn’t even sure what this ‘doorway’ was supposed to look like.

Coulson stepped off of the jet first, followed by May and the others, and Mace muttered under his breath as he hurried after them, decked out simply in the usual Resistance combat attire. Maybe Coulson really was a secret agent in the other world, but here he was still the too-innocent history teacher, and Mace would prefer if at least May was taking the lead here.

Mace noticed Daisy hang back for a moment, speaking to Antoine, but he only hesitated briefly, sharing a nod with his old friend. He’d already said his goodbyes, and he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to do that again.

“I could come with, if you want... unless there’s something you’re not telling me.” Antoine’s tone cut into Mace’s heart a little bit, and he stepped further away from the jet. He didn’t want to hear the rest. He’d long ago figured out what he was pretty certain was the truth, and to think about that too deeply would be to lose his resolve completely.

No, his best friend would stay behind. He would take up the symbol that The Patriot represented, and he would continue to lead this world out of the oppression of Hydra. Mace was sure of that.

“You ready for this?” May asked wryly as Mace stepped up next to her. She was focusing on the gps reader in her hands.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” Mace replied. It was still surreal to be standing next to a Hydra agent - one who particularly had wanted him dead - and speak so casually.

“Let’s go,” Daisy announced as she joined them, and they all shared a look between them, before May led the way.

Much of the place was dark, though the exterior had been lit up as it would be any normal work evening. The work stations they passed were all abandoned, and it seemed recently so.

“Just up ahead,” May eventually called back to the rest of the group trailing after her, Coulson, and Mace.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Daisy mused slowly, looking around them. Her conversation with Jemma trailed quiet as the other three pulled ahead a bit; May’s speed was picking up as they neared the coordinates, and believing the ‘other world’ story or not, they were all curious about this ‘door’.

“Damn.” May commented when they stopped. They all stared.

“I’ll... go get the others,” Coulson swallowed, and jogged away.

“There’s no fucking way,” Mace breathed as he leaned against the railing to look down.

They were staring right into a molten container of steel.

“This can’t be it.” Daisy exclaimed once Coulson had returned with the rest of their group.

“The coordinates lead right there,” May replied, sounding like she was done with the whole thing.

“Into a pool of molten steel? You think Radcliffe gave us bad info?” Coulson wondered, staring agape.

“Radcliffe’s a prisoner of Hydra; he’s got no reason to lie!” Daisy protested.

Mace wandered down the walkway a bit as their argument intensified. Daisy had been definitely right about one thing, at least; this place didn’t feel right. And not just that her coordinates were a bust.

To the best of his knowledge, half of these machines looked like they were still on. This place had been evacuated, and very recently so.

“You seriously believe there’s some magical back door that will transport us to another world?” May exclaimed incredulously.

“It’s not magic, May, it’s _science_ ,” Simmons tried to explain, and May threw her hands up into the air.

“Then where’s your proof?” She pointed out.

“We just have to trust Radcliffe,” Daisy butted in, sounding like she hated saying those words. “He said that when a person passes through the back door,”

“That they wake up on the other side,” May rolled her eyes and turned to Coulson. “This is what you really believe?”

“Admittedly it doesn’t sound great when you say it like that,” Coulson muttered.

“Hey, guys,” Mace interrupted loudly, the uneasy feeling creeping up his spine all the more. “Maybe we should start thinking about a plan b?” Either a way to get through this back door, or a way out of the building - in any case, they needed to get moving.

“Not you, too,” Simmons sighed, and May seemed pleased that Mace was possibly on her side on this.

“Actually, I’m thinking we might try to find another way through the back door.” Mace gestured toward the boiling vat, and Daisy smiled hopefully at him. May’s expression narrowed.

“I still believe Daisy’s right.” Coulson piped up, and he and Mace shared an affirming nod and smile, as well.

“Wake up!” Mack growled out, finally speaking in his frustration. “There _is_  no back door! Just like she’s not Moses about to take you to the Promised Land!” He gestured toward Daisy.

Daisy looked hurt, at first, and then her eyes widened thoughtfully.

“That’s it.” She breathed out, barely heard by the others, and Simmons raised her eyebrow at her. “What if I Quake that thing?” She turned back toward the edge of the walkway, reenergized by her idea.

“And part the Red Sea,” Simmons realized, moving next to her to look down. Everyone drew their attention toward the container of melted steel again, Daisy’s new idea drawing them to it like a magnet.

“They did not just go and use the Bible against me.” Mack protested to himself, and Mace was thinking of an encouraging thing to say to the man when May yelled out,

“Hydra!”

She started shooting before Mace even spotted her target; down below, men in full riot gear with automatic weapons immediately started to return fire once they realized they were blown.

“Cover!” May ordered, and everybody dropped immediately. The catwalk they were standing on didn’t provide much, and Mace quickly scanned for a path to some place a little more secure. There - the platform rounded the room a bit before leading through into another room.

“Stay low!” Mace ordered over the firing weapons and pinging metal, and broadly gestured his hand for them to follow.

Once inside the other room, May took out the agent who tried to follow them on the lower level, and Mack glared as if this was all their fault.

“How the hell did these guys find us?” He demanded.

“Either it’s a trap, or the back door’s really here.” Daisy replied, sounding oddly calm considering that the situation has just gone fubar. “Only one way to find out.”

Before Mace could say anything, Daisy hopped back up and hurried back the way they came, thrusting her hand out toward a few Hydra agents and sending them flying quite a few feet across the floor in the opposite direction.

Mace whistled lowly, impressed, as he covered her to the left. Mack, somewhat oddly considering his opinion on all of this, was the one who scurried after to cover her right side. Perhaps he was curious to find out if this back door really was legitimate.

Daisy inhaled and then exhaled, and with that release of air she put her palm out toward again, pointing it toward the vat of molten steel.

Mace watched, his lips parted in awe, as the liquid slowly bowled out and curved itself along the edges of the vat, revealing...  _something_  underneath.

“What...is...that...?” Mack wondered quietly.

“It worked!” Daisy shouted over her shoulder toward the others, sending a harried grin in Mace’s direction. She had to focus on keeping the doorway clear.

“That can’t be real.” Mack muttered in shock.

“It’s real,” Coulson breathed to himself as he stepped up next to Mace.

“It could be a trap,” May warned, following carefully.

“The time for doubting is over,” Coulson said in that awed voice, and then smiled over at May like an excited school-kid. “We’re going back to our world!”

“Coulson! Wait!” Mace shouted when Coulson started to approach the edge of the platform.

None of it actually happened in slow motion, but Mace’s spike in adrenalin made it seem as if time had slowed down. Three single gunshots rang out, Daisy cut her powers off and dropped behind cover, Coulson’s body flinched, Mace knelt down behind cover, Coulson’s knees collapsed beneath him.

Mace glanced around the corner of the metal barrier he was hiding behind; more Hydra men were slowly approaching the vat.

“Coulson!” Daisy shouted. “Get up!” As if she thought giving the man direct orders would keep him alive?

Mace stared wildly in Coulson’s direction; he wasn’t moving from where he’d collapsed onto the catwalk.

“Coulson’s going to die!” Simmons moaned, on the edge of panicking, and Mace was moving before he even had the thought to.

Gunfire sounded from behind him and beside him; May and Mack were covering him as he rushed toward Coulson and knelt beside his body.

He rolled Coulson onto his back, needing to see how bad it really was. Maybe...

Fuck.

“This feels— oddly familiar…” Coulson gurgled and coughed up blood, and Mace stared down with wide, terrified eyes as he tried to put pressure on as many bullet holes as possible. Blood had pooled quickly - an artery had probably been hit somewhere - and both Coulson’s hands and Mace’s were quickly coated in deep, dark red.

“Damn, you look like Swiss Cheese, Phil,” Mace tried to joke, but it caught in his throat, and Coulson gave him a consoling look, as if he weren't the one who lay there dying. “Stay with me,”

“Help me,” Coulson managed, reaching one hand vaguely in the direction of the vat.

“We’ve got to get you out of here,” Mace argued, futilely. Enough of his friends and agents have died in his arms for him to know - Coulson didn’t have any time.

“It's alright, Jeffrey. Trust me.”

Mace gave him a searching look, swallowed, and nodded.

“Meet you on the other side.” Mace promised, not entirely sure that he actually would. Even with the portal that Daisy had revealed right in front of him, this was all still… insane. But it was also the only chance Coulson had left.

“Daisy!” Mace cried out, helping Coulson to his feet. Coulson grunted and moaned, and more blood splattered onto the floor and their shoes, but Coulson’s death grip on Mace’s hand and on the front of his combat jacket never wavered.

“On it!” Daisy realized very quickly what was happening, and she stood straight and focused her powers toward the vat once more.

Mace looked back to Coulson, and knew that at the very least, he trusted _this_  man.

“Just follow my lead,” Coulson encouraged, squeezed his hand limply, and then let go. Mace took a deep breath and let him fall back over the edge of the walkway, watching as his limp form fell through the portal and disappeared.

Something odd happened, then. Everything around them seemed to almost glitch, become pixelated.

“Fucking hell,” Mace breathed, looking down as his own hand seemed to do the same. He looked back toward the others. Mack looked just as astounded as he felt, possibly even more so. Mace stared back down at his blood-soaked hands, and prayed to God that Coulson turned out alright on the other side.

Another gunshot, from behind him, made him twist around on his knee and scan the doorway from the room they had all hidden in. Simmons was pleading about something, but Mace’s ears were ringing and he couldn’t distinguish her words.

The next thing he knew, Holden Radcliffe was forcing The Doctor across the catwalk, a gun pointing to his head, talking into his ear.

“This was never my intention... don’t blame yourself. This is all _my_  fault.”

Mace shot to his feet as they approached, and he realized that Radcliffe was pushing Fitz toward the vat.

Right. Supposedly, Fitz was one of them. A good guy on the other side. But how did Radcliffe know this?

“Go!” Simmons told Daisy, who nodded and quickly reopened the doorway.

Mace stepped to the side as he eyed a scowling Fitz warily, and then Radcliffe shouldered Fitz over the side and down through the doorway. He disappeared the same way Coulson had. Mace reached out and snagged Radcliffe to haul him back up when he lost his balance at the edge, and Simmons limped toward them.

“Bringing Fitz here was the only way I could truly save him,” Radcliffe admitted, revealing as to how Hydra had known they were all at the plant. He and Simmons shared a look, and Mace stepped around them to go to Daisy for a moment, giving them a bit of privacy.

“How are you doing? Can you keep doing this for all of us?” Mace wondered, gesturing toward the vat.

“I’ll have to.” Daisy said determinedly, already looking mildly pale. She glanced toward Mack. “It’s your turn.”

Mace wasn’t surprised when Mack shook his head slowly, and took a step back. What did surprise him was Daisy’s attempts to persuade him, and the amount of emotion in her voice. The tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” Mack told her softly, and he did mean it, but he didn’t know her. He didn’t quite understand why she was feeling the way she was.

“Mace.” Daisy whispered brokenly, and Mace looked at her, half-unsure. “Please.”

He glanced toward Mack, swallowed, and nodded at her. If she was right, and Mack really was one of them, then it was imperative that he return with them now.

Remembering Coulson to ask him to trust him, and promising that he would meet him on the other side, Mace finally, solidly, made his decision.

Mack narrowed his eyes, but Mace was already moving toward him.

“Forgive me, God, forgive me,” Mace murmured as he secured his arms around the man who was even more broad-shouldered than himself.

Mack yelled out and wriggled within Mace’s hold, but it didn’t loosen. Mace was sure that if he didn’t have his powers, Mack could have kicked his ass; as it was, he was exhausted and slippery from Coulson’s blood and he couldn’t hold Mack forever.

“Go! Go! I'll be right behind you!” Daisy ordered, her voice giving away the tears that still ran down her face, and she opened the door again. Mace only hesitated to watch Simmons jump through, and then he followed after her, Mack screaming threats at him all the way.  
  


**———**  
  


He felt more exhausted than he had in his entire life, his skin raw and slightly tingling from the hard scrub he’d given himself in the shower. His body felt almost brand new to him, in a way. He _knew_  that he didn’t have powers in this world, that he never had, but he could still feel the loss. He could still feel - remember - what it was like to truly be an Inhuman; to both revel and suffer with his gift.

He was also starving, as if he hadn’t eaten in days, but there was something he had to do, first.

“Hey, Cheese.” Jeff joked tiredly, leaning against the open doorway of Coulson’s motel room.

Coulson had been digging through a plastic bag on the bed, his back to the door. At Jeff’s words, he turned around, chuckled softly, and rubbed absentmindedly at his chest.

“I was a bit… hole-y, earlier, wasn't I.” Coulson mused, and Jeff gave him a lopsided grin.

“Angelic.” He kept up the joke, and Coulson laughed, but then he tilted his head a little.

“Wait, was that a line?”

Jeff glanced away for a moment as his face tinged red, but he didn't deny it. A slow smile formed on Coulson's face and he approached closer.

“Maybe you should leave the lines to me?” Coulson teased quietly, and Jeff looked at him sideways.

This was the real world; they couldn’t just.... He took a deep breath.

“In the Framework, I… I considered uh, propositioning you,” He admitted apologetically, and Coulson's eyes widened at his blatancy.

“Okay, keep talking.” Coulson corrected his previous statement, and Jeff slowly straightened off the doorframe, shuffling his feet a little.

“You seemed really into… The Patriot, and after we took down the Hydra bus, and the tv studio… well, I enjoyed— I enjoy— working with you.” Jeff shrugged and didn't quite meet Coulson's eye. “I figured once it was all said and done you'd go back to teaching and I'd go back to helping the Inhuman Revolution, so why not have a little fun in the meantime?”

“Fun? Like what?” Coulson pressed, stepping even closer to Jeff, almost toe-to-toe with him now. Jeff stared down at him nervously, and swallowed.

“You know.” He muttered, and Coulson raised his eyebrow. “Anyway,” Jeff breezed quickly, “I'm sorry.” Coulson froze, and blinked at him.

“Sorry?” He repeated, his tone rather neutral.

“Yes, I — ”

“Sorry you didn't follow through?” Coulson interrupted, and Jeff stared for a moment.

“You almost _died_ ,” Jeff said, wrapping his fingers around the back of Coulson's arm. “Not to mention the fact I hadn't remembered who you are. Or who I really am.”

“That wasn't your fault.” Coulson pointed out. Jeff's upper lip twitched and his fingers tightened briefly against Coulson's skin; for a moment reminding Coulson more of the Framework version of Jeff.

“I was distracted! That won't happen here; I won't let myself get distracted like that again, not when I should be watching your back.” Jeff promised vehemently.

“I told you that I trusted you there, Jeff. I still do, here.” Coulson told him, and touched his fingers against Jeff's soft t-shirt, just over his heart. “We made a pretty good team in the Framework. We could here, too.” Coulson continued, sliding his hand slowly across Jeff's chest. He paused for a long, charged moment. “And here,” Coulson murmured, curling his fist around the fabric and tugging Jeff to follow him as he took a step backward into the room. Jeff moved slowly, but he did allow the guidance.

“Hey, you two. Ready to eat?” Simmons knocked lightly on the doorframe and poked her head into the room. She hesitated when she noticed how they were standing; almost nose-to-nose, Jeff's hand on Coulson's arm and Coulson grasping the front of Jeff's shirt. “Are you two fighting?” Simmons wondered worriedly, not having reason to assume anything else, and both men let go of one another simultaneously.

“No, Dr. Simmons.” Jeff promised her, his exhausted tone taking the forefront again.

“You know you can— you can call me Jemma.” Simmons reminded Jeff softly, cautious over the state of his memories.

“Of course. I know,” Jeff turned more fully toward her and offered her an apologetic smile. “Just habit. We’ll meet you all at the diner in a moment, alright?” He promised, and she nodded, glancing toward Coulson before she slipped away, leaving them alone once more. Jeff stayed where he was, though after a moment he felt Coulson's palm against his upper back, and he closed his eyes.

“Why don't we finish this conversation after dinner?” Coulson suggested, his tone softer, but with a sensual note. Jeff rumbled a noise of agreement as he felt Coulson's fingers trail a path down his spine.

“There's one thing,” Jeff tensed and turned quickly to face Coulson again, effectively putting an end to the distracting touch, “I need to do before we head down though.”

Coulson furrowed his brow.

“What is it?”

“When you were bleeding out on that platform, and I thought… I didn't know if any of you were right. I trusted you, but I had no proof, no memories, of the real world. I honestly thought you were really dying from all those gunshots and I regretted…”

“Regretted what?” Coulson pressed gently, starting to have an idea of exactly what.

Jeff closed the distance and grasped Coulson's head between his hands, tilting in to give him a firm kiss on the lips.

Coulson kissed him back immediately, his mouth moving against his in earnest. Coulson gripped his waist firmly and tugged him against his body, making Jeff breathe in heavily through his nose as their kissing grew more intense.

This was not the type of first kiss that Jeff had imagined, but fuck, it was _good_.

He knew a part of it had to do with the adrenalin but another part of it was the newness of the thing; the excitement. Coulson's tongue fluttered into his mouth and he moaned, starting to feel warm all over now. He forced himself to pull away from Coulson, his chest heaving as he stared at him.

Coulson's eyes were dark and intent but they also glittered with that same joy that Jeff was starting to associate with him being flirty.

“Felt like I should do that. Just in case.” Jeff finally breathed out, his nonchalant tone contradicting his shortness of breath. Coulson grinned, and nodded musingly.

“That was a good idea.” Coulson replied, betraying how out of breath he was, as well. Their gazes lingered on one another for a long moment before Jeff cleared his throat again.

“We should go eat.”

“I _am_  pretty hungry,” Coulson mused, reaching for his jacket that was draped over the back of the desk chair. He lightly smacked Jeff on the ass as he slipped by him and out the door, “For more than one thing.”

Jeff blurted out a nervous chuckle, and rolled his shoulders before following after Coulson, closing the door behind him. He allowed the wide smile to bloom across his face while Coulson’s back was to him.  
  


**———**  
  


“Anybody have room for some pie?” Their waitress teased as she refilled Coulson’s coffee, no doubt impressed by the huge plates of food every one of them had put down.

Turns out using all that brainpower within the Framework makes people pretty hungry.

“Uh huh!” Coulson immediately replied, his mouth still full of food, glancing over at Daisy to his left, and she rolled her eyes in amusement at him.

Jeff was sitting on the other side of Daisy, and while she was distracted, he reached over and snatched a french fry from her plate. She was looking at the waitress while the woman listed off their pies for the night, but she still elbowed Jeff’s side in retaliation.

He grunted, but ate his prize with a smirk on his face. He was about to express interest in the chocolate banana cream pie, when the power completely cut out in the diner.

Goodbye, Johnny Cash.

“Here we go,” May sighed, setting her fork down and straightening in her seat.

Coulson glanced at Daisy and then at Jeff. They’d all figured something like this would happen as soon as they showed their faces in public, but Jeff had admittedly hoped the Feds would have at least given them a few more hours.

Multiple men - and weapons - scurried into the room, and one by one the team put down their eating utensils and raised their hands shoulder-level. The waitress backed away from the bar counter quickly, her eyes darting about until they landed on the phone hooked into the wall. Jeff caught her eye, and shook his head just slightly at her.

Even if the phone somehow worked with the entire system possibly shut down, he didn’t want her getting unintentionally hurt. She swallowed nervously, but kept quiet and still.

Out of the corner of his eye Jeff saw someone - possibly the leader - stop behind Coulson’s right shoulder. With the sunlight glancing in through the windows behind them, Jeff could tell that he was bald, but that was about all he could distinguish.

“Phillip J. Coulson.” The man spoke as if Coulson had been a thorn in his side for years.

“Yep, that’s me.” Coulson replied cheekily. “You got us. Nice job, oh and hey, congrats on the whole power outage thing, it was very…ominous.”

Jeff briefly closed his eyes for a moment, inwardly groaning. Coulson was going to get himself smacked upside the head with the butt of a gun.

When Jeff opened his eyes again, it was quiet, and the weight of scary men with guns standing behind them was gone. Glancing over his shoulder, Jeff confirmed that they were alone once more.

“What,” He wondered, and realized the others were pretty much saying the same thing.

“What just happened? Who are you? Who were they?” The waitress was panicking now, and diving for the phone to no doubt call the cops. But the lights and everything were still off, meaning whoever had come didn’t bother turning the power back on when they left.

“Are they gone?” Jeff wondered, and Daisy hopped to her feet and jogged over to the east-side door. Mack was already peering out of the west door, a consternated expression on his face.

“They’re gone,” He confirmed slowly.

“Shit. Where’s Phil?” May wondered gravely, and Jeff’s blood ran cold as he stared at the empty seat.

“There was no way they - I didn’t see anything! No one is that fast!” Elena exclaimed, possibly more disturbed than the rest of them were.

“I just blinked,” Jeff murmured, and for a second he wondered if those mysterious men had actually been here. But no; the power was still out, Phil was missing - they had been real.

“I think it might’ve been a device,” Jemma thought out loud, throwing her napkin from her lap to her plate as she got to her feet as well. “I heard a sort of high pitched noise, just for a second maybe, but…” She grabbed onto Fitz’s arm and hauled him to his feet. “Did you hear anything?”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard it,” Fitz answered her, moving toward Phil’s chair and putting his hands in the space Phil had been occupying. He then placed his palm on the stool. “It’s cool.”

“He was _just_  there,” Daisy raised her eyebrow as she folded her arms across her chest. “I was sitting right next to him!”

“Let’s figure this out while we get out of here.” May suggested, giving the waitress an assessing look. “Do you have a cell phone?”

“I - I haven’t used it, I swear!” The waitress insisted, her hands shooting up into the air in a gesture of innocence.

“I need it.” May held her palm out, and the other woman hesitated momentarily before digging her phone out of her pocket and tossing it into May’s hand.

“I thought we were going to let them take us in,” Mack pointed out as they all slipped out into the empty parking lot.

“They took Phil. Change of plans.” May replied, glancing toward Jeff. Focusing, he nodded at her.

“Call the Koenig’s.” Jeff confirmed, and as she dialed, he tried to find evidence of any recent activity having been in the parking lot.

“No tire marks, no boot scuffs - there isn’t even a stray cigarette butt!” Mack exclaimed as he looked around as well.

“Isn’t that strange, though?” Daisy realized. “Not a _single_  discarded cigarette out here.”

“It’s been cleaned,” Jemma followed, and made a point to check the corners of the sidewalk and near the bushes by the front door. “Professionally.”

“QuinJet inbound,” May told them. “If our friends in black haven’t been there already, we need to get back to the motel and make sure we don’t leave anything behind. Agents Piper and Sam have a place set up where we can lay low for a bit.”

Muscles taut and nerves on edge, Jeff did his best to appear casual as they all walked back to the motel. It seemed like the others were doing a pretty good job of acting unaffected, but Jeff couldn’t shake the dread settled like a heavy weight in his stomach. Suddenly, he wished he hadn’t eaten all those mashed potatoes.

“Perhaps it was some kind of speed device, where it gave them all powers like Elena’s momentarily?” Jemma quietly theorized with Fitz, as they walked behind Jeff.

“She would have still seen them, though. What about,” Fitz replied, “A time device?”

“Who would _have_  something like that? The military certainly doesn’t, and we’re nowhere near figuring out our own TARDIS,”

“I told you, we’re _not_  calling it the TARDIS,”

As Jemma tried to argue why calling their little project the TARDIS would be a perfect idea, Jeff tuned them out.

Aliens from other planets, aliens from _Earth_ , humans with powers, robots that looked like humans, computer-programmed alternate realities - after everything, now he had to deal with fucking _time travel_?

“I’m going to throw up,” Jeff groaned quietly. Daisy, walking silently at his left, gave him a sympathetic look.  
  


**———**  
  


“Stop it with the smokescreens, Glenn!” Jeff ordered, slamming his fist down against the top of his desk. Talbot flinched slightly on the screen, surprised by Jeff’s outburst of emotion, but he quickly covered it up. “The _only_  people - the only! - who could have this sort of technology is SWORD!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Director.” Talbot said again, slowly and clearly, his tone unwavering.

Jeff growled and turned his back to the big screen as he refrained from speaking aloud the curses he desperately wanted to use. Daisy gave him an empathetic look and touched her hand against his arm briefly, but then stepped closer to the screen.

“General,” Daisy started, and Talbot made an uncomfortable expression.

“Where’s A.D. May?” Talbot asked, and Daisy narrowed her eyes.

“Agent May is on assignment,” Daisy informed him purposefully. “And she and Jeffrey made _me_  assistant director in the meantime. We _know_  SWORD exists. We may not know what the hell it is, but I have receipts _right here_  that FitzSimmons tells me adds up to one … timey … wimey … machine!” Daisy only hesitated over the last few words, unsure of what to call the thing.

“Dammit, I _told_  them to use a paper filing system,” Talbot grumbled, looking offscreen somewhere. “But noooo, they have to be all ‘ _green_ ’ or some shit… Damn computer logs…”

“Talbot - ” Jeff warned darkly, but suddenly the general looked right at them and said,

“I have another call. Goodbye, Director Mace. Johnson.”

The screen cut black, and Jeff clenched his fists together as he sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“Okay.” Daisy mused carefully, turning around to face Jeff. “Well, he basically confirmed the existence of SWORD.”

“We know it exists,” Jeff hissed, “which we knew _before_. _What_  are they?! _Who_  are they?!”

“Take a break, Mace,” Daisy warned slowly, noticing how his fingers were shaking slightly.

“Five months! It’s taken us _five months_ to even get this far!” Jeff exclaimed, as if Daisy didn’t know that. “If Coulson’s not _dead_ , then they’re bound to have moved him someplace new at least two or three times already!”

“Talbot isn’t our last resort,” Daisy reminded him. “I came in here to tell you that I’ve received word from May. She was able to make contact, and we’re going to get some help.”

“Fury’s coming out of hiding?” Jeff asked in surprise, the news settling his emotions some and helping him focus.

“No,” Daisy shook her head. “But turns out he’s got some friends in far-off places.”  
  


**———**

  
“Well, this is new.” Coulson said to himself as he ducked behind some storage crates. Intruders had never gotten this far into the station, before; all he could do was hide and hope, though, because his captors refused to allow him any kind of weapon.

He’s learned over time to begrudgingly trust that they would keep him safe, though, and sat still as he listened to various shouts, gunfire, and pounding feet echo down the halls and into the room.

At least one person was carrying heavy ordinance, Coulson could tell by the way it had to power up before firing with a louder explosion than any of the other guns. Something about it sounded vaguely familiar.

As Coulson mulled over that, too late he realized boots were running directly toward his hiding place. He curled his fingers into his palms; at least he’d kept up his workout routine while he was here. If he had to punch his way to his death, so be it. He’d go down fighting.

“ _There_  you are,” An extremely familiar voice sighed from above, and Coulson stared at the combat boots in his line of sight with a furrowed brow. Those weren’t space issue. Lifting his eyes slowly, Coulson realized the whole outfit was recognizable.

The Patriot smiled tiredly down at Coulson, lowering his weapon slightly. Coulson stared up at him, blinking owlishly.

“Jeffrey?” Coulson wondered incredulously, and Jeff held his hand out to help Coulson to his feet.

“Come on. We’re getting you out of here.”

Coulson accepted the help, but was slow to follow, still too surprised by the familiar presence. His gloved grip had felt real and strong in Coulson’s hand, but…

“How are you,” Coulson started to ask, and then, “We?”

Jeff hoisted his weapon back up - and Coulson only now realized it was _his_  ‘Revenge’ blaster, as Fitz had so fondly named it.

“Long story,” Jeff replied as he led the way back through the vast space station. “The short and sweet of it is; Fitz worked on The Patriot suit to provide me all of the super-strength so I don't have to take the serum any more. Director Fury heard about your kidnapping, he's got some friends in deep space, they provided us a ship. Speaking of,”

Jeff paused as they ducked back around a corner they'd just turned, enemy blaster fire burning into the walls mere inches from where they'd been. He waited a breath and then darted back out, firing the gun with surprising accuracy and taking out their enemy.

“We’re on the clock a bit, here,” Jeff admitted, indicating Coulson follow with a tilt of his head.

Coulson stared at his back as he moved through the halls like any other sufficient tactical officer - hell, like his Framework self had done. Coulson followed after him in something of a mental drift; this was like some kind of surreal, out of body experience.

“They demanded their ship back a couple days ago, actually, but I insisted - and let me tell you, that little raccoon thing is a  _nightmare_  to deal with - ”

“The _what_?” Coulson was completely lost, and incredibly overwhelmed.

Ten minutes ago, it was just another day in space prison paradise; five minutes ago it was just another ravager raid; now all of a sudden some badass version of Jeffrey Mace was carrying around a giant energy weapon and shooting up aliens as if it were just another Tuesday.

“Am I dead?” Coulson wondered, mostly to himself, and Jeff chuckled as he glanced around the next corner and then put a hand against Coulson's back, leading him forward first.

“Now I'm the angelic one, huh? I'll remember that,” Jeff teased as he followed after, never removing his hand from Coulson's back. “Straight ahead here; our getaway,” Jeff explained, just as the bay doors opened to reveal another jarringly familiar face.

“ _Daisy_ ,” Coulson breathed. Unreal, this was unreal.

“Yeah, thought you'd like that,” Jeff mused as he turned to guard their six while Coulson scrambled into the awaiting ship with a helping hand from Daisy. Her grip was just as sure as Jeff’s had been.

“Heya, Phil. Long time no see.” Daisy smiled widely but had no time for a big reunion yet; as soon as Jeff was inside the ship as well she slid into the pilots seat, flipping and pressing controls as quickly as she could to close up the hatch and get themselves detached from the docking station.

“Hey, buckle up,” Jeff chided as he set the gun on the empty seat across the aisle from Coulson and reached over to latch Coulson in. Coulson just stared up at him, letting him do it. “Keep breathing, Cheese. We'll be home before you know it.” Jeff winked before turning to latch the gun down as well, somewhat comically giving it its own seat, before he slid into the copilots spot next to Daisy. “Try not to scratch the paint; you know what he said the last time - ”

“Please,” Daisy interrupted, rolling her eyes as the ship shuddered to life and seemed to yank itself free from the space station. “I was _there_ ,” Daisy reminded him, and he raised his eyebrows but moved to focus on the weapons systems as she flew them out of there.

Coulson just couldn't stop staring at the backs of their heads, still questioning his own sanity. Cheese, though - Jeff had called him Cheese. That was their little joke from the Framework - Coulson’s captors couldn’t have known about that. This wasn’t some kind of new torture with hallucinations - this was _actually happening_.

“Are you guys _partners_?” Coulson wondered incredulously, as if that were the weirdest thing to have happened today.

“Like I said before,” Jeff called back, firing a few shots at the small craft that attempted to follow them, “It's a long story. Promise to give you all the juicy details later, okay?”

After a few more tense moments, it seemed Coulson's previous captors have given up following, and the other two up front relaxed.

“About an hour from touchdown,” Daisy confirmed, and Jeff nodded to her before he unbuckled his seat and turned sideways so he could look back toward Coulson.

“Are you injured?” He asked, his eyes glancing over Coulson’s form a little more closely now. Coulson stared at him.

Maybe he’d been gone for longer than he thought, but this guy in front of him was not the Jeffrey Mace he remembered. His eyes were the same - soft and worried - but there was a strong set to his jaw and an unconcerned slouch in his shoulders that was nothing like the Mace he recalled running away from the Watchdogs.

“I’m fine.” Coulson finally answered, his voice sounding odd in his own ears.

Jeff relaxed significantly, and suddenly he looked like himself. The soldier was gone, and Coulson found himself relieved by that.

“You sure you’re fine, AC?” Daisy called, glancing back at him over her shoulder. “His voice sounds weird,” She said lowly toward Jeff, who nodded in agreement.

 _AC_.

“Are you real?” Coulson realized he was begging, but he wasn’t embarrassed by that; he was too busy being embarrassed by the wetness he felt on the sides of his face.

“Aw, damn,” Jeff half-choked, on his feet and unbuckling Coulson from his seat in the span of a second, and he hoisted Coulson up to his own feet before pulling him against his chest. “We’re real, Phil.” He murmured “Damn it” again, then assured Coulson, “We’re real.”

His armor was cold against Coulson’s cheek, but it served to pull everything further into focus, and he wrapped his arms around Jeff’s back and unashamedly hugged him in return.  
  


**———**  
  


“How long was I gone?” Coulson wondered, looking around the common area again, though he'd been sitting here with the rest of the team for a few hours, now.

“Ten months, thirteen days.” Jeff answered with casual specificity, and Coulson noticed how Jemma and Daisy shared a look between them. Jeff was busy focusing on buffing out one of the wrist guards of his armor, though, and didn't realize how everyone else was trying not to smile with fond amusement.

Coulson got the feeling that Jeff probably knew the amount of hours and minutes, as well.

The lounge reminded him of the old HQ; how’d he’d had it set up before Jeff came along and SHIELD became legitimate again. According to what he’s just been told, SHIELD has lost some of that legitimacy and hadn’t quite regained it back, yet.

“Let me get this straight,” Coulson spoke slowly, wrapping his head around it all. “The public is still alright with us, at least so far as they have been, but the government isn’t? How’s that working out?”

“Mostly quiet operations. Black-ops stuff,” Daisy answered, catching the bottle Jeff tossed her of whatever it was he was using to clean his armor, and taking a rag to her own gauntlets. “Damn space dust,” She muttered to herself, “Gets under everything.” Louder, she added, “Talbot still keeps tabs on us but it’s all ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ these days. We’re on our own.”

“How _long_  were the two of you, uh, ‘exploring’ space?” Coulson asked her with a raised eyebrow.

“Two months, off and on; remember we mentioned earlier about borrowing that spaceship?” Daisy said, and he nodded. “Well, the first time her owners were begrudging participants. The second time we took her out…” Daisy trailed off, and grinned a little in Jeff’s direction. He smirked at her in return.

“We might have taken her without asking.” He finished, and Mack groaned from his position on the couch next to Elena.

“We’re never going to hear the end of it,” He complained.

Coulson looked at Jeff in surprise, and the man’s grin widened a little. Okay, maybe Coulson was a little impressed.

Hell, they broke him out of prison in the middle of space. He was a lot impressed.  
  


**———**  
  


“What’s with the suit?” Coulson wondered, tilting his head toward the corner of the office where Jeff’s Patriot suit hung.

“Which one?” Jeff joked, brushing his hand down his tie.

“You’ve got it hanging in that glass case like you’re never gonna wear it again,” Coulson pointed out. It seemed rather over-the-top, as well - what, did he think he was Batman or something? - but Jeff’s reply answered why.

“Maybe I won't.” He shrugged, “Visiting congressmen love seeing it. Talbot claims that the image of me behind my desk, with my Patriot armor locked away, is good press too.”

“Hm,” Coulson mused distastefully, “The image of you _wearing_  the suit looked more than good enough.”

Jeff was smirking when Coulson glanced toward him.

“We have Agent Quake to play the heroics, now,” Jeff replied softly, though he seemed a bit bummed, himself. “She’s more than ecstatic to be the boots on the ground, after her stint as A.D.”

“A.D. Johnson has a nice ring to it,” Coulson admitted, and Jeff nodded.

“I thought so, too, but you know Daisy - she couldn’t stand all the red tape.”

Coulson smiled proudly at Jeff’s words, and Jeff chuckled.

“Just like her mentor.” Jeff murmured.

“You’re going to sit there and tell me you _do_  like all the game-playing? The politics?” Coulson asked knowingly, and Jeff sighed as he leaned back in his chair and folded his fingers together over his stomach.

“It’s like I told Daisy; when you have to put on a show at all times, after a while you get used to it…” Jeff shrugged a little. “Anyway, you know I used to write about international politics. There are a lot of aspects that still fascinate me.”

“But you’re not allowed to punch the guy across the table who doesn’t agree with you,” Coulson pointed out, lifting his eyebrows for emphasis, and Jeff chuckled.

“That’s why I still spar with Agent May every other morning,” Jeff replied, and Coulson looked at him like he was crazy.

“You do what?” Coulson asked, and Jeff furrowed his brow in a playful pout.

“Hey, don’t act so surprised. I can hold my own.”

“ _Without_ the suit?”

“Don’t be an ass.”

Coulson laughed at that, and Jeff smiled widely like he was pleased.

And maybe he was; Coulson realized that was the first time he’s really laughed like that since… well, at least ten months.  
  


**———**  
  


Coulson wanted to take it easy, and Jeff, paranoid he would get snatched again, wanted to keep him close. So whenever Jeff had to travel long-distance, Coulson was always among the small group of agents that accompanied him.

Mack enjoyed partnering up with Coulson again, anyway, although Coulson shied away from the more intense missions.

That hesitancy made Jeff wonder what really happened to Coulson in that space prison. Even being stabbed in the heart with an Infinity-Stone-powered scepter hadn’t stopped the man before. Hell, he’d done some missions with only one arm, what remained of the other tucked inside of a sling! He was as much a possibly-insane-badass as Jeff could imagine.

Now, still very fit and having passed his retraining requirements, he nonetheless continued to turn down any operations that involved anything more than reconnaissance. His mind was still sharp as ever so he did take back over planning tactical operations (with much relief from May, although she still assisted him) - but he had yet to join in on a mission.

He readily accepted each time Jeff asked him to travel along, though, so Jeff thought that perhaps he simply wanted to ease himself back into being the starting quarterback, as opposed to the offensive coach.

The metro train jarred, pulling Jeff from his thoughts as Mack’s shoulder bumped against his back.

“Sorry,” Mack murmured, planting his feet more squarely.

Oddly enough, an accident on the freeway had meant that traveling by train would actually be _faster_ , so here they were, trying to act casual amongst the locals using the public transportation.

Jeff found it odd having to get used to this ‘black-ops organization’ sort of thing, though all the others seemed to take it all in stride. He found he sometimes missed those gaudy police escorts through the busy cities.

Every now and then, someone on the train would look curiously in Jeff’s direction, but then they would focus on the men in suits that surrounded him, and quickly point their attention somewhere else. Jeff felt a little ridiculous surrounded on all sides as he was, but having Coulson the one standing smack dab in front of him was a nice consolation.

They were both holding on to the vertical bar between them to keep from jostling into one another with the movement of the train. As it was, the rocking motion occasionally drew them breathtakingly close, before gravity pulled them away again. Jeff was starting to feel a little dizzy.

It wasn’t just his paranoia about Phil’s safety that made him continuously drag the man along on these little “adventures” - Jeff found it practically impossible to keep away from him. Maybe it was separation anxiety, but even when they were all on base Jeff found himself strolling by Coulson’s office from time to time, simply peering in and setting his eyes on the man before he felt settled enough to continue on his day.

Jeff didn’t want to overwhelm him, so he didn’t do anything more than request Coulson to join him during his travels, but Jeff constantly thought about their moment in the motel room which had been almost a year ago now. It had been just that - a mere moment - but Jeff had never stopped thinking about it. Not during those ten months he’d been searching for Coulson, and not since.

Coulson never alluded to it - hell, he might not even remember it had ever happened. So Jeff did his very best to not push things in that direction. He told himself over and over again that it had probably just been adrenalin, the relief of getting out of the Framework, everything just being so heightened that it had taken simple flirting into a territory that maybe neither of them really wanted in the first place.

Except Jeff’s heart just wouldn’t listen.

The metro slowed to another stop, causing an unsuspecting Coulson to tilt forward far enough that the front of his shoulder touched the bar, and his nose almost brushed Jeff’s chin. Coulson didn’t say anything as he settled back onto his heels, but Jeff noticed the blush creeping over his ears. Coulson slowly glanced up, and realized that Jeff was already looking down at him.

Coulson blinked, and before he could chicken out Jeff slid his hand down the pole a little, casually, as to not draw attention from any of the other commuters around them. Mostly, though, he didn’t want to draw the attention of his other agents.

When his hand curled overtop Coulson's, he raised his eyebrows just a bit, almost like a challenge. The last time their hands have touched like this, they were both covered in Coulson’s blood. Jeff mentally shook that image away, reminding himself for the thousandth time that it hadn’t been real.

Coulson blinked again, but then allowed the corners of his mouth to reveal a tiny smile, and Jeff made a pleased expression as well before he looked back forward. His thumb brushed slowly overtop Coulson's, sending a spark of electricity up Coulson's arm, and Coulson had to bite his lip to keep his smile from widening.

Jeff didn’t push it any farther than that, but maybe, just maybe, his heart was actually on to something.  
  


**———**  
  


It was four o’clock in the evening when Coulson stepped into the Director's office to find Jeff sitting slouched in one of his guest chairs, knees slightly bent with his feet propped against the edge of the square coffee table. His tablet was in his hands, but held loosely; propped in his lap. His head hadn't even fallen forward or back, though his mouth was parted just slightly with his lax jaw. His eyes were closed, and he didn’t budge an inch as Coulson walked across the office.

He'd fallen straight asleep, right there in the middle of reading something on his tablet. Coulson glanced at his watch to double check the time, and furrowed his brow with an empathetic look. He'd heard that Jeff had been woken up at two a.m. this morning, after probably only a few hours of sleep, and had been working nonstop since.

Coulson understood this part of the job completely, and he quietly slipped away again to brew up some fresh coffee, making sure to carefully close the office door behind him so Jeff wouldn’t be disturbed while he was gone. As soon as enough had brewed, Coulson pulled the carafe from the machine and poured a mug for Jeff, replacing the carafe so it would finish the brewing process for anyone else who needed a fresh pick-me-up.

When he entered the office again, Jeff hadn't budged. Keeping an eye on the dozing man, Coulson gently set the mug down atop the glass table Jeff was currently using as a footstool, and rested his hand on Jeff's shoulder.

“Hey,” He murmured, lightly squeezing muscle. “Jeffrey.”

Jeff's head slowly listed down to the left, in the direction of Coulson’s hand, before the change in equilibrium jarred Jeff to awareness and he flinched, yanking his head back up. Luckily his tablet didn't slip from his hands, but as he tilted his head slowly back to gaze up at Coulson, his jaw dropped open wider in something of a drowsy yawn.

“Coulson?” Jeff murmured, momentarily confused.

Coulson tried to ignore just how cute he was finding Jeff right now, and gave him a small smile as he let his hand fall away from his shoulder.

“I brought you some fresh coffee,” Coulson told him softly, and Jeff smiled widely. He still seemed like he wasn't quite fully awake, but he leaned forward to switch his tablet for the warm mug, leaning back in his seat again with a sigh, careful not to spill the hot liquid.

“How long was I out?” He mumbled, taking a careful sip of his drink. It was still a little too hot, so he lowered the mug again.

“I'm not sure,” Coulson replied, “Maybe a half hour? Maybe only a few minutes.”

Jeff sighed heavily and stared into distant space as his brain slowly whirred to life.

“I've felt like a damn zombie all day.” Jeff complained. “Thanks for waking me; if I napped too long now, then my entire sleep schedule would be screwed up.”

Coulson hesitated before nonchalantly suggesting,

“You know, if you ever need a hand with anything, you can call me.”

Jeff turned his head to look up at Coulson, giving him a grateful look. Coulson briefly struggled with the powerful urge to brush his fingers through Jeff’s hair, and smiled gently before turning to head out.

“Wait, did you need something?” Jeff wondered, making Coulson pause.

“No, I was just checking in.” He eventually answered over his shoulder, chickening out.

He’d wanted to perhaps bring up the Framework again - and more pointedly, what had happened in that motel afterward. Or, what had almost happened.

But Jeff was exhausted, and Phil didn’t want to put any further undo stress on him.

“Alright...” Jeff mused. “Well, thank you, again. And, uh... I might take you up on that offer about the extra hand.” Coulson turned back around to face him, finding him smirking a little. “I hear you’ve got some spare ones lying about, anyway.”

“Har, har,” Coulson replied, rolling his eyes, and Jeff’s smile widened. His sleepy, pleased face made Coulson swallow nervously. “How about tomorrow I bring my laptop in here and we knock out some paperwork together?”

“That would be great,” Jeff admitted with relief, and Coulson nodded before continuing toward the door.

“Get some rest tonight, Jeffrey.” He suggested fondly, making sure to leave before Jeff could say anything else.

He needed to get out of there before he said something silly.  
  


**———**  
  


Jeff’s head was down as he scribbled across the sheet of paper he was reading, but he could still feel the weight of a gaze on him. Raising his eyebrow slowly, Jeff tilted his face in Coulson’s direction, not actually lifting his head up yet.

Caught, Coulson flinched in his chair, then smiled. He didn’t look away, though.

“What?” Jeff asked, raising his head now.

“Nothing.” Coulson shrugged, that quiet smile still on his face. Jeff furrowed his brow at him.

“Then why are you staring at me?” He asked. It was a little distracting.

“I like looking at you.” Coulson replied simply, and when Jeff realized that he wasn’t simply teasing, he warmed with pleasure and had to bite his lip to keep from smiling like a dork. Coulson’s eyes glinted; he probably noticed Jeff’s reaction to his words, anyway. “Is that a problem?” Coulson asked innocently.

Jeff opened his mouth to immediately reply in the negative, but, it _was_  distracting him from work. Even more so, now that he knew _why_  Coulson was staring.

“A little,” Jeff admitted sadly, but Coulson’s smile only widened and he eased himself out of his chair, folding his laptop closed and tucking it under his arm.

“I’ll go work in my own office for a bit,” He conceded. “Just call me when Talbot checks in,”

“You don’t have to _leave_ ,” Jeff interrupted before Coulson could walk three steps toward the door.

“But I’m distracting you,” Coulson reasoned, his tone still _too_  casual. Jeff narrowed his eyes slightly as he figured Coulson had something up his sleeve.

“Just don’t stare at me so much!” He fussed, and Coulson’s gentle smile widened exponentially.

“So I can still stare at you a little bit?” Coulson teased, and Jeff pursed his lips as he felt his cheeks redden slightly.

“That’s... your prerogative.” He muttered, shifting a little in his chair.

Coulson sauntered back to his seat and resettled, opening up his laptop and continuing working on whatever it was he’d been doing before all this.

After a minute of more-or-less companionable silence, Jeff glanced back up in Phil’s direction again.

He had his elbow propped up on the table, leaning his chin into his hand while his other aimlessly tapped at his keyboard. He was looking right at Jeff with almost a dreamy expression on his face.

“Phillip!” Jeff hissed, and Coulson chuckled delightedly, but tilted his face toward his computer screen. Jeff frowned in Coulson’s direction for a long moment, though Coulson didn’t look back up, so eventually he once more focused on his own work.

Still, he felt stupidly pleased at the idea that Coulson liked looking at him. Because he liked looking at Coulson, too - he was just better about hiding it. (Then again... was he, though? He’d have to make a mental note to be careful about that.)  
  


**———**  
  


“Quick! Distract him!” Daisy begged, sliding into the kitchen and diving behind the island counter.

Jeff and Coulson both looked down at where she'd disappeared to, and then at one another.

“Who?” Jeff asked when Daisy said nothing else.

“Where the hell is Johnson?” Talbot’s voice echoed into the room and answered at least a part of his question.

“Well, I _am_ highly trained in distraction techniques,” Coulson pointed out, and when Jeff turned to ask him what the hell _he_ was talking about, Coulson grabbed the lapels of Jeff’s suit and kissed him. Hard.

Jeff’s noise of surprise was muffled by Coulson’s mouth, and Coulson turned him slightly to push his hips back against the counter, bumping noisily between two of the chairs. Coulson shifted his hands to the top of the counter, effectively caging Jeff in.

Well, he sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere, anyway; not when Coulson moved his tongue like _that_.

“Hey, have you seen - ” Talbot’s demand cut short, and he was silent for a beat before he coughed awkwardly.

Neither man even acknowledged him - by now Jeff had a hand on Coulson’s hip and one cradling his jaw, making sure he didn't pull away too soon.

“For fucks sake,” Talbot grumbled, “you're like a fat kid on a cupcake.”

His footsteps sounded out of the room, and Coulson slowly ended the kiss, pulling his head back to look at Jeff without moving any other part of his body yet.

“He's gone, Daisy.” Coulson announced, still looking at Jeff.

Daisy hopped to her feet, appearing once more on the other side of the island they were leaning against. She looked triumphant, and then smirked at the men.

“I owe ya one,” She promised, though her smirk was like the cat that caught the canary.

“I don't think you do,” Coulson smiled, and Jeff smiled slowly as well, shifting his body marginally closer to Phil’s and putting his hands on the other man's hips.

“Dude,” Daisy teased Coulson, “You just can’t help it with the heart eyes, can you? Zero self control.”

“I don’t mind his lack of self-control.” Jeff pointed out innocently, even as he licked his lips at the expression Coulson was giving him.

“I can tell,” Daisy replied, raising her eyebrow.

“Why do I get the impression that that kiss was about more than just a distraction?” Jeff mused, and Coulson’s brow twitched teasingly; silently joking that he didn't know what Jeff was talking about.

Jeff pressed forward and initiated the kiss this time, capturing Coulson’s in something lingering and deep and a bit wild.

“Annnnd, on that note,” Daisy announced, stepping away from them. When neither made any attempt to focus on anything other than each other, she smiled and quietly slipped away.

And if she kept guard for a few minutes just outside in the hallway, it was no skin off her back. She _did_ owe them, after all.

  
**———**  
  


Jeff’s expression fell into a look of relief once he and his team stepped off the plane and saw Coulson standing in the hangar bay, waiting.

“Thank you, as always, Agent Piper.” Jeff said to his pilot, gripping her shoulder in a friendly gesture. She grinned and shrugged at him as she hoisted her own go-bag over her shoulder and hurried off to find Agent May.

Jeff looked toward Coulson again, approaching him casually, and Coulson stuffed his hands into his trousers pockets and sort of twisted his hips side to side, as if he just happened to be leisurely hanging out in the garage. Jeff smiled with warm fondness, though Coulson’s smile was all mischief.

“Agent Johnson, perhaps we could save the debrief for the morning? I’m pretty tired.” Jeff suggested toward the woman who’d gone with him to the recent summit.

“Sure thing, boss.” Daisy replied easily. “Heya, Phil.” She gave her old friend a grin and a lighthearted punch on the side of his arm before she walked off on her own, headed into the base.

“Tired, huh?” Coulson mused once Jeff stood in front of him. “Guess you ought to head on to bed then.”

“I’m not _that_ tired,” Jeff murmured lowly, tilting his chin down a little as he gave Coulson a look through hooded eyes. Coulson’s grin widened, that mischievous look in his eyes brightening.

Together they turned and headed into the base, perhaps walking a little bit closer than was strictly necessary.

It was easy to sneak into his quarters together when everyone assumed they were headed up to the office to work late. There were some pros of being labeled workaholics.

They chatted amiably while Jeff put his things away; mostly Coulson spoke, enlightening Jeff on the happenings on base while he’d been gone. Once he’d finished emptying his bag, Jeff had rested on his couch, and it wasn’t long before Coulson joined him.

“You _are_ tired,” Coulson accused lightly, while they cuddled some time later.

“M’not,” Jeff protested, opening his eyes. He couldn’t directly remember how they’d ended up cuddling up next to one another like they were.

Coulson chuckled, and shifted sideways to lay along the couch, wriggling until he was resting comfortably against the armrest. He rested his bent leg against the back of the couch and kept his other foot on the floor, patting his thigh lightly.

“Come here,” Coulson requested fondly, and Jeff released a heavy sigh but didn’t hesitate to lean over and rest his back against Coulson’s chest, allowing Coulson to cradle him between his arms and legs.

Coulson sighed happily and tangled his fingers into Jeff’s hair, relaxing his hand there as Jeff nuzzled his cheek against Coulson’s shirt.

“Missed you.” Jeff sighed, so quietly that Coulson wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear it. He chose not to say anything in response, though he did tilt his head down to press a lingering kiss against the top of his head.

Jeff had only been gone for a few days, and Coulson probably should be concerned about the quickly-ever-growing attachment between them, but he couldn’t deny that he’d missed the man as well.

They hadn’t exactly acknowledged whatever this was, but they’d begun a sort of tradition watching movies together late at night once things had quieted down and they had some free time for themselves. It often involved cuddling and flirting and sometimes even sleeping, but they haven’t progressed beyond a few very intense make-outs.

Coulson knew that Jeff was waiting on him; ever since returning home to Earth, Jeff had simultaneously managed to give Coulson all the space he needed while also being within his vicinity a _ridiculous_  amount. And somehow no one else on the base seemed to notice the separation anxiety Jeff was depicting. Or they didn’t care.

Coulson was very aware that Jeff touched him often, leaned into his space even more often, but never pushed for more.

Coulson decided he would change that… but maybe in the morning. Jeff was already snoring lightly, and Coulson was far too warm and comfortable to want to move, so he closed his eyes as well, and resolved to give Jeff the sign he was waiting for in the morning.

Just because life seemed to be working that way, Coulson was awoken hours earlier than he wanted - and hours before Jeff would eventually wake, as well.

They had both shifted in their sleep so that Coulson spooned around Jeff’s body, cuddling the slightly taller man between himself and the back of the couch. It was more than comfortable, but Daisy was insistently jabbing the back of Coulson’s shoulder, so with a quiet sigh, Coulson managed to extricate himself without bothering Jeff.

“Seriously? The cutest.” Daisy informed him with a pointed eyebrow, and Coulson squinted at her warningly. She held her hands in the air. “I totally won't tell a soul that I saw you guys spooning in your sleep. I'll take it to my grave.” She promised, and Coulson rolled his eyes at her but smiled.

“Why are you waking me at,” He glanced at his watch, “Four-thirty in the morning?”

She looked at him as if he'd said the stupidest thing she'd ever heard.

“Dude, you said you wanted to start doing Tai Chi in the mornings with me and May. And I quote: ‘Throw a bucket of water on me if you have to’.” She glanced toward the couch and added, “I forwent the bucket this time, since you weren't sleeping alone.”

He gave her another warning look when she smirked.

“C’mon, Casanova. May is waiting for us,” She gestured toward the door with a tilt of her chin, and Coulson glanced once more toward Jeff’s sleeping form before he followed her.

“You’d better cut it out with the jokes before we get to the gym.” Coulson warned, and Daisy held her hands up again, though she chuckled quietly.  
  


**———**  
  


Jeff opened the door to his quarters, startled and freezing halfway through the doorway when music started playing. The guitar sounded vaguely familiar, but he didn’t place the song until the voice started speaking.

He wasn’t listening too closely, though, because Coulson was standing there in his room, having turned around from the music player to face him. He stood calmly and expectantly as Jeff half-gaped at him.

For a wild, terrifying second, Jeff wondered if he was somehow back within the Framework — but his brain quickly assured him that was not the case with flashes of memory of their escape, and everything that had happened since. Even so, the rest of his body still seemed to be frozen in place.

Coulson was wearing his exact outfit from the Framework; his teacher get-up, glasses and all.

When David Lee Roth sang out “I’m hot for teacher,” Coulson raised his eyebrow pointedly.

Jeff swallowed and stepped further into his room, closing his door behind him. Coulson casually tucked his hands into his pants pockets, which only served to point out further how snugly they fit him, and Jeff’s fingers twitched by his sides.

It was mildly unsettling, seeing something so distinctly ‘Framework’ here in what he knew was the real world, but more so, it was incredibly arousing. Jeff didn’t know what it was, exactly, but he’d always thought Coulson looked good like this, even before he had remembered that he was Coulson.

_“Phil Coulson. Wow. The Patriot!”_

Coulson’s words had admittedly perked his interest then, and the memory of them now still did the same.

Coulson smiled coyly, then, and said,

“Teacher needed to see you after school.”

Jeff blurted out a laugh, and Coulson’s smile softened and widened. Jeff stepped closer to him.

“My homework was never quite like this,” He mused, following along with the joke, although he was already pushing that (Brown? Plum?) coat over Coulson’s shoulders and toward the floor. He slanted his mouth over Coulson’s as Coulson shrugged the coat off of his arms, and then Jeff moved both hands toward his tie, pulling it loose.

“Oh, okay,” Coulson breathed against Jeff’s ear as Jeff kissed his jaw.

“We can do foreplay later, Phil,” Jeff promised as he dropped the tie and focused on the buttons of Coulson’s shirt. He smoothed his palms over it, first, appreciating the way it stretched over Coulson’s muscles.

“Okay,” Coulson agreed firmly, reaching for Jeff’s tie. “I do still think,” He had to pause as he pulled out the knot and tugged the strip of fabric from Jeff’s collar, “I do think we make a pretty good team.”

“I didn’t want to rush you,” Jeff explained apologetically, his hands pausing on half-undone buttons of Coulson’s shirt. “After everything that happened, I figured that motel was the last thing on your mind,”

“It’s alright,” Coulson assured him. “Thank you.” He gripped his fingers firmly into Jeff’s shirt for a moment, though, and gave him a serious look. “That motel was far from _last_ on my mind. There were many times it helped keep me going, out there. In space.”

“Still can’t believe you were kidnapped and taken to _space_ ,” Jeff muttered, shaking his head in wonder, and Coulson began quickly unbuttoning Jeff’s shirt.

“Let’s do this before something else interrupts us again, shall we?” Coulson suggested somewhat urgently, tugging Jeff’s shirt up out of the waist of his pants to finish pulling it open.

Jeff leaned in and kissed him deeply again, his nose bumping and skewing Coulson’s glasses. When Coulson reached up to remove them, though, Jeff quickly grabbed his wrist.

“Wait—” He licked his lips, “can you keep them on?”

Coulson’s slow smirk was dirty and made Jeff tingle in all the best ways.

* * *

 


End file.
